Hearing Wendy's warning, Ormack stopped strapping the nearly unconscious Elliott into an upper-deck crash-seat, jumped into the left seat, looked out the left cockpit window and saw the halftrack.
'Goddamn, ' he shouted over his shoulder, hoping his voice would carry.
'Wendy, get everyone on board. 'He then slapped the wing flap switch to full DOWN and double checked the fuel panel, opening the fuel supply from the fuselage tanks to the engines. He moved the number-four engine throttle to ninety percent power, leaned across the co pilot's seat and put the engine number-five starter-switch to START, using engine bleed-air from the running number-four engine to spin the turbine on the number-five engine. When that engine's RPMs moved to fifteen percent he jammed its throttle to eighty-five percent to begin pumping fuel into the engine's ignition-chamber.
A thunderous bang reverberated through the Old Dog, and the right wing shuddered. Ormack scrambled over to the right 'Visa cockpit window.
The entire number-five engine was engulfed in smoke. He checked the engine instruments. The RPMs of that engine were slowly increasing but wondrously there was no indication of fire. Another loud bang and the engine RPMs stopped at forty percent.
The HATCH NOT CLOSED AND LOCKED light on the front-instrument panel snapped off, and a moment later Wendy reported everyone was aboard.
'Get Patrick up here,' Ormack called out, and McLanahan came scrambling up to the cockpit to see General Elliott in his emergency web seat, forehead and face dripping fresh sweat, head lolling back with fever.
'He's out of it,' Ormack asked. 'Get up here. I'll fly the plane from the left seat. You get in the co-pilot's seat monitor the instruments.'
McLanahan hesitated' McLanahan!'
Patrick shook himself.stepped carefully around Elliott. Just before climbing into the co-pilot's seat he reached down, retrieved Elliott's.45 caliber automatic from his holster. 'Can we start the rest of the engines?' he said, looking at the gauges.
'Not yet. When number five reaches forty-five percent switch off its starter and switch on three, six.seven and eight. Move the throttles up to IDLE when each engine RPM reaches fifty percent. Watch the fire lights-that kerosene has been giving us some hard ignitions.'
McLanahan nodded and watched number five RPM gauge, a finger on the starter switch.
Ormack opened the left-cockpit window. The Russian soldier was now advancing on the Old Dog, more cautiously than before the engines were started. He did not hear Ormack open the sliding window.
'He's still coming,' Ormack said. McLanahan pulled the automatic from his jacket pocket and tapped Ormack's shoulder with it. Ormack turned, saw the gun. 'If we start a firefight here 'We may not have any choice.'
Ormack nodded, took the gun, keeping it out of view. McLanahan pointed at the number five RPM gauge. 'RPMs are up to forty-five. Number five starter off. Starting three, six, seven and eight. 'The Russian militiaman walked right up to within fifteen yards of the Old Dog, toward the left cockpit window, pistol holster in clear view on his waist but his weapon still in it. When he heard the number three engine start to spool up he drew his right index finger across his throat.
'He wants us to shut down,' Ormack said. He shook head at the soldier.
The militiaman drew his finger across his throat several more times.
'Patrick, we're running out of time There were several loud bangs on both wings this time, and the Old Dog began to buck and rumble as if its insides had been seized by a coughing fit. The Russian soldier backed away several feet as a cloud of blue-black smoke from the number three engine hit him.
Continue the start,' Ormack yelled. Clouds of smoke began to enter the cockpit through the open window. 'Move the generator switch on number five engine from RESET to RUN.'When he next saw the Russian soldier he was back beside his halftrack shouting orders inside. Suddenly another soldier appeared at the machine-gun mount on top of the halftrack. A moment later he was handed a large machine gun, which he began bolting into its armor-plated mount.
Ormack saw it and called out a warning.
'Number three's not starting,' McLanahan asked. 'Number six started.'
'We're set to taxi,' Ormack answered. 'Continue the start.
Hang on. 'He tapped the toe brakes to release the parking brake, scanned the engines, took hold of number four, five and six throttles and jammed them to almost full military thrust.
The Old Dog rumbled mightily but refused to move.
'She's not taxiing, we need all available engines,' Ormack told McLanahan.
McLanahan kept a hand on the number seven throttle. As Ormack spoke he advanced that throttle to IDLE power.
'Seven started, three's comin up. 'Three engines now 9 running at almost full power, along with three sputtering and exploding.
Ormack jammed the number-seven throttle to military, but the Old Dog still would not move.
'C'mon, you sonofabitch.'
Ormack looked at the Russian halftrack, He could see the first Russian soldier pressing one hand to his ear, giving the 'cut-engines' sign with his other, then slapping it back over his uncovered ear.
'Three's started,' McLanahan asked. 'Eight coming up.'
'Get the generators on-line for the running engines,' Ormack told him, keeping an eye on the Russian/ at the halftrack's gun-mount.
'Anti-icing switch on. Manifold switch closed. Hydraulic switches on.
Stabilizer trim set-' Ormack looked up from his checklists in time to see the gunner on top of the halftrack point his gun just over the Old Dog's fuselage and fire.
Ormack instinctively ducked, pulling McLanahan down.
The roar of the engines drowned out the chatter of the heavy-caliber gun and the bullets whizzing a few feet above them.
McLanahan went on with the engine start, advanced the throttle on number eight to IDLE.Both men looked up over the instrument-panel glare-shield. The lead Russian soldier was again giving them the cut-engine sign, and this time the gunner had his weapon pointed directly at the cockpit.
Ormack did not look at McLanahan as he pulled on his headset. Over interphone he called, 'Everyone on interphone'@ Report by compartment.'
He then brought all engine throttles to IDLE.'Crew, we have a Russian armored vehicle about a hundred yards off our left wing.
They've got a machine gun. They've ordered us to cut our engines-' The HATCH NOT CLOSED AND LATCHED light on the forward instrument panel snapped on then and before either Ormack or McLanahan could react it popped out.
'What was that?'
I don't… Dave, did you open the hatch?' No reply 'Luger.
Report. 'McLanahan was about to unbuckle his safety belt and go downstairs but stopped when Ormack calleL out, 'Luger, no.'
McLanahan turned and looked outside. Wearing only his flightsuit and boots, Luger was hobbling toward the fuel truck parked near the Old Dog's left wingtip. He was carrying one of the.38 caliber survival revolvers.
Nobody could speak, only watch, horrified, as Luger stumbled, right leg flopping in the air, then quickly rolled back up to his feet and half-crawled to the fuel truck as the gunner swung his machine gun directly at Luger.
Ormack came alive, stuck the.45 caliber automatic out his left cockpit window and fired, the slug creating a bright blue spark as it ricocheted off the gun mount's armored shield. The gunner whirled his gun toward the cockpit, which provided an opening to his right side.
Luger had reached the truck, steadied his arm on the hood and emptied the revolver at the gunner. One of the slugs found its target.
'Luger. Get back here… ' Luger heard Ormack, started back for the Old Dog. But another soldier appeared from behind the halftrack, lifted a rifle with a long, curved cartridge clip, fired. Luger clutched his left thigh and pitched forward.
Ormack could only fire his pistol again, forcing the Russian at the back of the halftrack to retreat, but he did
